


3rd night in Winterfell

by Brieoftarth



Category: game of thrones
Genre: Fluff, poorly written smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 17:45:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19214389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brieoftarth/pseuds/Brieoftarth
Summary: hi have some poorly written smut and a little fluff at the end. can’t get these two fools out of head.





	3rd night in Winterfell

**Author's Note:**

> hi have some poorly written smut and a little fluff at the end. can’t get these two fools out of head.

Jaime didn’t wear his golden hand to bed, for which Brienne was thankful. The first night they had spent together had started off with passionate kisses, filled with years of desire and want from both parties, but they had slowed down as Jaime had guided her to her bed. Before he had guided her between the sheets, Brienne had taken a step back and he feared rejection. But his blonde beauty had taken the guilded hand and turned it palm up, working at the buckles wordlessly. As soon as it was off and discarded on the floor, her fingers carefully caressed the scars and the indents the buckles had left. She had held it against her heart, her eyes not quite ready to meet his.

But she was a lot less shy by the third night.

His hand felt like fire against her skin. Every touch made her arch into him, quietly begging with soft whimpers of “please” for more, her whole body aching to feel him.

But Jaime wanted this moment to last. He wanted to watch her hooded eyes glare at him in frustration, and he’d chuckle breathlessly as his wench would press herself closer and closer to him. “Jaime,” she huffed eventually, regaining the energy to speak. “Jaime, I need you.”

“Where?” He taunted, his lips pressing against her shoulder to trail gentle kisses along her collarbone and down to her breast. He could feel her grit her teeth in annoyance, and he couldn’t help but smirk as he grasped her nipple between his lips. At this, she let out a soft squeak and tried to grind her hips against him, aching, needing something to ease the pressure building between her thighs. “Not yet, Ser Brienne. I’d like to take my time with you tonight. Surely you’d allow me that honour?” His teeth barely grazed her nipple, and she gave him a curt nod to allow him to proceed.

Jaimes kisses were always gentle, but his beard scratched and tickled at her skin. “What are you doing?” She hummed, his kisses soon reaching to the waistband of her small clothes. He ignored her questions, his hand clasped around the fabric, dragging it down her long legs. As his lips fell to the inside of her thigh, Brienne immediately grasped his shoulder as she shook her head. “Jaime, no,” she spoke quietly. When he looked at her, he could see she was embarrassed, mortified even at the thought him kissing her there. His sweet, innocent Brienne. Kneeling up between her legs, Jaime leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her nose, his hot breath against her cheek.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop. But Gods, Brienne, I’ve been aching to taste you since I got to this fucking room,” he whispered, and he could feel the burn from her cheeks. “It’ll feel good, I promise, and if it doesn’t, I’ll stop. Okay?”

Could he possibly really want to do that? Why would he only want to pleasure her? Her septa had always ingrained into Brienne that men only wanted pleasure, women were only there to pleasure the men. But the hunger in Jaime’s eyes told her differently. He wanted it, he had said to himself. Another nod, and she didn’t have time to reconsider because as soon as her head even moved, Jaime’s lips were back to her inner thigh. He kissed, nibbled and licked at her skin, carefully avoiding where she wanted it most. “Jaime,” she whined, the confidence soon coming back to her.

Her voice was all he needed, and as soon as her hand pressed against the back of his neck, his tongue slipped between her folds and he could taste her want for him. His scarred wrist pressed her hips against the bed to keep her still, while his left hand teased her opening. He could hear her panting, soft news of pleasure muffled by her thighs pressing at his ears. Pushing two fingers inside of her, Jaime pressed his tongue against her nub, growling quietly against her skin as she pulled his head roughly to her. ‘I told you, wench’ he thought to himself with the smuggest smirk and Brienne could feel the arrogance but too preoccupied to care.

Jaimes fingers pumped inside of her, while his tongue and teeth devoured her. It didn’t take long before Brienne was squealing his name, her free palm clasped against her mouth as she rode out her climax against his lips. Her thighs quivered against him, and Jaime knew his Lady Knight was spent. They’d have to convene in the morning.

Kissing his way back up, he leaned closer to kiss her lips, allowing her to taste herself on him. Her moans were gentle, and she tried as hard as she could to kiss him back with every bit of passion as their first, but her eyes were drowsy.

“Sleep, my lovely.” He whispered, falling beside her to cuddle her close to his chest. “Plenty of time for more tomorrow, I’m sure,” he stroked her arm, his hand trailing over every scar, bruise, mark. Brienne pressed a single kiss to the crook his neck, curling her body around his.

“We’ve got the rest of our lives together for nights like these, wench,” he murmured as she nodded against his chest. “When we retire to Tarth, I’ll ask your father for your hand. And we’ll wed the very next morning. Do you hear me?” He asked her, but she was already gone. Fast asleep, a gentle snore coming from her as he sniggered.

Only his wench would fall asleep right before he proposed.

He lay back against the pillow, his hand trailing from her arm to now stroke her back as he held her close to him. And suddenly, he wished she was awake. He wanted to know if she would marry him, if she would stand before the gods and marry the Kingslayer. He wanted to know if she would grow old by his side, and love him till the day he died. He wanted to share everything that he wanted with her, his desire to hold her every single night, he wanted to have children with her, if she’d allow it.

He’d have to wait until morning to find out. He closed his eyes, and it was all he could picture. Tarth. Brienne. Two girls, one boy. His best friend with him until they drew their last breath.


End file.
